Chapter 20
20
DULCE
T he cleaning crew had finished by the time Ford drove me to the bakery. I was down a prep table and still needed to go by Trent’s garage to see about the van, but it was late. Katie dropped me off at home in time to relieve Mary and prepare my grandmother’s bath and dinner.
“There was a rat in the bakery,” my grandmother says, surprise etched in her voice.
The bakery never had rats. We cleaned thoroughly every day and followed guidelines, but I couldn’t tell her the rest or how we found the rat. There was no way I could tell her anything. She had enough to deal with.
Yes, but we've already addressed it. I have to replace one of the prep tables.”
“I heard you left with Ford Keller?” she says with a knowing smile.
“News travels fast.”
“I called the bakery, and Katie told me.”
Dammit, Katie.
“It was nothing. It was to give me a ride out of town to look for a new prep table,” I tell her.
“And?”
“And I didn’t find one.”
“You know your cheeks go pink when you lie, just like your mother.”
I sigh. “Fine, I let him think that.”
I can’t lie to you about everything. Every time I lie, it consumes me deeply.
Every day, I can see it in her eyes. Her time is coming to an end. She’s exhausted, and there is nothing anyone could do. She's stage 4 and on hospice. I’m surprised she can talk to me, given her constant pain.
Katie must have told her who else was there. Since the police were still investigating, I told Kaite not to tell anyone about the details of finding the rat.
“I wanted to make a point.”
“To Danny?”
Busted.
“Yes,” I admit.
“So you used Ford to get Danny off your back.”
I close the drawer with her pj’s in hand and look over my shoulder. “You figured me out, Grandma.”
“It’s clever, but I don’t like the fact that you used Ford.”
I almost snorted. If she only knew Ford was worse than Danny.
“Trust me, I’m forgotten as soon as they step out of the bakery.”
It's not like I was hurting anyone’s feelings. Danny is... involved with someone. Ford gets around. Literally.
”If you think so,” she huffs.
After her bath and dinner, I sit with her, and she tells me stories about when she was young. She recounts my childhood activities with my parents. When she fell in love for the first time. She wanted me to always remember those moments. It made everything worth it. I could never get those stories when she was gone. Without her, I would have no one to share these stories with. There was no one to remind me that I had a family. I had people who loved me.
“You need to find someone to start a family with, Dulce,” she says as I rub lotion on the wrinkly, pale skin on her feet. “Maybe not right now, but soon.” While I sit in the recliner next to her bed, she looks over at me. “Find someone to start a family with. Create memories to add to the ones I've shared with you. It’s what will give you peace and happiness.”
“I haven’t found the right person, Grandma.”
I don’t think I ever will, but I don’t tell her that. I don’t want her to worry more than she already does. I’ve accepted that there may not be anyone out there for me. At least, not until I can get out of this town.
It’s not like I could hide it. At night, the nightmares will haunt me. A panic attack out of nowhere. Unexplained crying when I fall asleep. I can make excuses. Maybe I'll see a doctor when I leave here, but it’s too late. The damage is done.
Sooner or later, whomever I’m with will know. There are only so many lies you can tell before they surface. Because they always do.
Keeping secrets is just a prison for the lies that can destroy you.
The following day, Katie comes to pick me up to take me to Trent’s garage. I had to close the bakery for another day until I could get everything sorted out. Danny texted me to say he still has no news about the break-in. I’m not sure he ever will. This town only allows you to understand what they want you to know.
I make my way to Katie’s car down the little path, careful not to twist my ankle. It’s hot despite it being only eight o’clock in the morning. When I open the oven door after a cake finishes baking, I can sense the sun's heat radiating. A sheen of sweat coats the back of my neck by the time I make it to her car.
“It’s hot as hell outside,” I tell her when I get in the car.
“Tell me about it. Every time I breathe, it feels like cotton balls are in my throat.
“Thanks for picking me up.”
“No biggie, we’re closed today. We need to figure out what we are going to do about the van.”
“Yeah, that is a wonderful place to start.” The thought of going over to Trent's fills me with dread. “How’s your grandmother?”
I smile weakly. “Um, she’s still alive.”
“I’m sorry, Dulce.”
After ten minutes, she turns on a road that haunts me even in the light of day. I clear my throat, trying to remove the feeling of suffocating. Panic bleeds into my chest. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs.
“Dulce?”
I place my hand on the dash, not caring if my seat belt is cutting into the side of my neck. “Could you pull over for a second?”
She pulls over, and I hear her unclick the seat belt. “Dulce? What’s wrong?”
I blink twice, trying to clear the spots clouding my vision. “I need a minute,” I say between breaths.
“Are you having another panic attack? I don’t mean to be nosy, but you should see someone.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can,” she says softly. “There are resources. Free hotlines.”
I laugh, and it sounds crazy. If she only knew.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m not laughing at you, Katie. I can’t do any of that.”
“Why not?” she asks, confused.
I squeeze my eyes shut. "What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this car."
“Okay,” she says nervously.
"It stays here."
"Okay," she repeats.
I tell her about high school. I tell her about Ford, Chris, and Trent. I don’t tell her the rest or what exactly happened, but I tell her I was attacked without going into details because I’m not ready to visit the dark room in my mind; I’ve managed to keep it shut.
“Is that why you acted like you didn’t remember Ford when he showed up?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
She leans back in her seat. “Shit. Here, I was encouraging you and thought he was a racing god.”
“It’s not your fault, and what happened isn’t his. Not really.”
"But he could have acted differently toward you. I mean, before.”
“He left the country before prom. It wasn’t his fault, and I can’t hate him for not wanting me, Katie. I can’t blame me for being stupid enough to think he would look at me the way I wanted him to.”
“Then why is he here sniffing around you?”
"I question myself every time I see him. Sometimes I think he is trying to absolve his friends or maybe his name. Reputation. Celebrities are worried about their past coming to light.”
“Huh, Ford is really a bully. I could see it, but I never would have guessed based on the way he looks at you.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Apparently, anything. So that is where Danny fits in all this, and he turned out to be..."
“A liar like the rest,” I finish for her, looking down the road, trying to see if I can find the house I saw.
The trees shift in the light breeze. The sun shines through the trees, revealing a brown roof in the distance. The house is a small one, no larger than a cabin.
I open the door.
“Dulce, where are you going?”
“I need to see something,” I say. Before I close the door, I look down at her. “I’ll be right back.”
My heart is racing, but I’m confident that either someone lives there, it is abandoned, or Dean from the tow truck was full of shit. Maybe the old man doesn’t live there anymore. The story Dean fed me couldn’t have been recent.
“Are you crazy?” Katie yells from behind me. Her car door opens and slams. “I’m not going to let you go alone!”
“I’ve been called plenty of things, but crazy was never one of them,” I shoot back.
She catches up to me, out of breath, looking back every few seconds. “What are you doing out here?” She pauses when I don’t answer. “Is this where it happened?”
“Yeah,” I say, looking between the brush of trees, treading carefully.
"That's why you had the panic attack," she says, speaking more to herself than to me. “Is that…”
I look around. “Yeah. It’s a cabin. I saw it when I broke down, and the tow truck picked me up.”
I’ve been thinking about the cabin. If someone lived there, it could have been the person who attacked me. I didn't believe an elderly man could possess such strength, but someone did.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe we should call the cops.”
I stop. “Katie?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t trust anyone in this town. You can leave me here. I don’t want to put you in any danger. Go back to the car, and if you see that I’m in trouble, drive off and call the cops.” I glance back at her car, parked on the side of the road. “Go,” I say quietly.
“I can’t,” she says, shaking her head frantically.
“You can. I’ll be fine,” I assure her.
"No, you won't. What if there's a man who hurts you or a fucking psycho killer who cuts girls up for fun?
“I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”
“Dulce. I don't think...”
“Go, Katie,” I snap, and she jolts.
I regret talking to her like that when she has been the only person who has been nice to me, but this is something I have to do.
We walk between the trees, the sun causing me to squint until we see the small triangle shape of the rustic roof appear.
The door is tilted like it’s been tampered with. It reminds me of those crack houses you see on TV in the city, where drug addicts hang out to shoot up drugs.
My eyes fixate on the fogged-up windows caked in yellow like they haven’t been washed in years, but I can’t see anyone. I get the courage to knock.
“Are you nuts?” Katie whispers.
I knock again. I wait a few minutes, ignoring the alarm bells ringing in my head, telling me to get the hell out of here.
There is a loud thump and then a curse.
“Shit. Oh my God. Someone actually fucking lives here. Dulce, let’s get the hell out of here.” Katie grabs my arm, trying to drag me away.
“No,” I say with conviction, pulling my arm out of her grasp. “Go, Katie. There is still time. Get out of here.”
“Hell, no. I’m not leaving you here.”
I hate dragging her into this. I check to see how far we are from the road. If something happens, she’ll have time to run to her car. I have to face this nightmare. I need to know. Whoever is behind that door could be my attacker. He could be the reason I can’t sleep at night. The reason I want to fucking die. Maybe he could finish the job.
The door opens, and a man appears, looking like a corpse from The Night of the Living Dead . He has rheumy eyes, gnarly hands, and veins running down his alabaster skin like a road map to hell. It’s the old man, Moody. Dean was telling the truth. The old man who likes young pussy.
"What the fuck do you want?" he asks, tucking his thumbs into his suspenders to cover his stained white shirt, which does little to conceal his wrinkled skin and gray chest hair.
“Are you Mr. Moody?”
“Who the fuck wants to know?” he asks with a dirty gleam in his eyes.
“My name is Dulce Webster. Four years ago, someone attacked me in these woods.”
His laughter makes the hairs on my arms stand up. “Let me guess. You think I had something to do with it? Does it look like I can run after a cunt like you?” He gives me a slow once-over, making my skin crawl. “In my prime, you wouldn’t stand a chance, but I’m too old. My dick doesn’t work, but if you would like to show an old man a good time, I won’t hold it against you,” he spits, and I want to throw up when I get a glimpse of his missing front teeth. “Your secret is safe with me, Dulce. I know who you are.”
My throat seizes.
“You’re disgusting,” Katie says behind me.
Old man Moody leans his shoulder against the door. “I love a little girl-on-girl action. I kind of preferred it in my day. It’s a shame he got you before I could.”
What do you mean?” I ask, stepping back.
He chuckles. Darkness grows in his eyes like he knows more than he is letting on.
“What you said,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“What did I say?” he says with a malicious smile, showing me his rotted gums.
I swallow the ball in my throat. “You said he got to me first.”
He chuckles and removes his suspenders.
“Dulce?” Katie calls in an uneasy tone, stepping back. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Who?” I press. “Who got to me first, Mr. Moody?”
His smile grows wider, like Art the Clown before a kill. The last suspender slides off a bony shoulder. “It couldn’t have been me. He unbuttons his trousers, and they slide down his sickly skinny thighs. My stomach clenches.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” Katie says through a cough.
He digs his hand inside his piss-stained underwear and pulls out his flaccid cock, surrounded by gray pubic hair, causing a ball of bile to burn the back of my throat.
I’m stunned.
Frozen.
"You see," he said, jiggling his small penis in his palm. “It’s dead, Dulce.”
“You’re sick,” I hiss.
He laughs.
Tears fill my eyes. He’s disgusting. “I hope you rot out here.”
He laughs louder.
I step back, pulling Katie with me. “I hope you rot in hell,” I scream in frustration.
We run back to the car, and Katie fires it up, peeling out on the road toward Trent’s garage. I wipe the tears of frustration from my face, trying to eradicate what I saw from my memory. The way he laughed. It’s like he knew. But it wasn’t him.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say. I look down at my hands, which won’t stop shaking. “It was stupid to go there. To involve you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t…”
“If you want to quit the bakery, I understand.”
I don’t want her to quit, but who in their right mind would want to work for an unstable boss? I’m fucked up, and maybe I always will be fucked up. It was stupid of me to drag her into this. I know that, but I had to know.
“It wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been. Right?”
“Dulce?”
“Yeah,” I reply, weakly looking at the clouds in the sky.
“I’m sorry.”
“I understand.”
“No, I mean, I’m sorry about what happened. I’m not going to quit on you unless you want to fire me.”
“I could never fire you, Katie. You’ve been the nicest person to me besides my grandmother and Mary. I know I put you in danger, and for that, I’m sorry. That man…”
“Had a small, wrinkly dick.”
I burst out laughing, causing snot to come out of my nose. “Oh God. I grab a napkin and wipe my face. “He did, didn’t he?”
“Disgusting,” she says with a laugh. “It looked like it was rotting with the rest of him.”
I visibly shudder. “He didn’t have teeth.”
“I know, but he did know who you were. He knew you worked at the bakery. Have you ever seen him before?”
"Never. But in this town, nothing escapes people unless they want it to."
“I believe that. There's something off about the people here. It reminds me of those towns that look normal but have something evil hidden underneath.”
“You should move while you can. This place isn’t safe.”
“How about I make a deal? I’ll leave when you leave.”
I smile. I’ve never had a friend before. One that would have my back like she did back there.
“Katie?”
She stops at a stop sign. “Yeah,” she says, looking both ways.
Her face blurs. “Thank you.”
She gives me a hug. One that I desperately need. “We all have dark and messy closets, Dulce. I know I have mine. I’ll tell you sometime.”
I nod, knowing that telling people about the past you’re trying to run away from is hard. On the way to Trent’s garage, all I could think about was how I’d had mine bottled up for four years, eating me from the inside like a disease. I just wish it would stop.